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by Unicornsfartglitter



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Abused Daryl Dixon, Fluff, M/M, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21562678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unicornsfartglitter/pseuds/Unicornsfartglitter
Summary: When Rick Grimes sees Daryl Dixon for the first time he didn’t know he would help the man find his true home.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes
Comments: 8
Kudos: 87





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**Author's Note:**

> Just something quick I got inspired to write.

Rick couldn’t understand why his parents decided to leave Atlanta and settle down in the small town of Kings County two years ago, right after he graduated from High School. Now halfway through his junior year at College he kind of got it. This was a town where everyone knew everybody, his mom actually chatted with the neighbors and had them over to play games, his dad was the Sheriff but unlike the big city of Atlanta everyone knew his name and actually seemed to be happy to see him on an off shift. His mother told him a week ago a neighbor had surgery down the road and she made the woman a freaking casserole. First off who made dishes for sick people and then on top of that one not next door? After several visits Rick decided visiting Kings County wasn’t a burden and the boring southern charm of a dull town was okay. Still, he couldn’t wait to get back to school and see if he had the guts to finally ask Lori out.

It didn’t take long after sitting down and catching up with his parents while being stuffed with cookies for his mother to ask him for a favor, she hadn’t worked a day in her life and he would do anything for his mother but she was a handful. She asked him to buy lightbulbs so he cranked up his car and headed to the small stretch of downtown if you could call it that. Five miles of shops and the rest of the land was houses and rural land. Figuring out how it went quickly there was only two options for lightbulbs, the one dollar store or the slightly more expensive General Store. It was two weeks until Thanksgiving and he realized it was a bad idea to stop at the dollar store, the cashiers were obviously stressed out as they looked down at a long line of customers.

Parking at the General Store he walked in and looked over some merchandise, the lights flickering and the fading paint made the store unappealing. The siding outside was due for a makeover, how this store got any business he didn’t know and the prices didn’t help. Rick picked up a bouncy ball for his dog Ted and strolled down the aisle in no hurry. After looking around at nothing really he stopped by the lights and tried to decide if it really mattered if he paid $5 more for the low efficiency bulbs his mother insisted he brought were necessary.

“Boy what do I keep telling you? Stop giving me sass, I’m so sick of your shit, I should have made your mom abort you. All you do is take up space!”

Rick’s heart pounded inside his chest hearing what some guy was screaming at his child, a loud pop followed but the child never cried. He looked over to the store owner Ralph but the man looked down and busied himself with wiping nonexistent dust off the counter. It was terrible Rick thought for Ralph not to care. He heard the kid shoved towards the counter and he turned, swallowing when he saw the broad back of a man instead of a child. An angel wing vest plastered to the back of a fast moving adult.

The abused man threw some fishing line on the counter while his son pulled out change counting it nervously as his father stood behind him cursing under his breath. The stranger’s breath hitched as he recounted the change but he froze when Ralph scooped the change off the counter and counted it for him.

“Just enough Dixon.”

The man nodded and the store owner barely bagged the fishing line before a the old drunk man pushed his son out the door cursing even louder now.

Rick decided the cheaper bulbs would be okay and went to the counter.

“Hey Rick. How’s college life?”

Rick brushed back his curls back before pulling out his wallet. “Good, how’s things this way?”

“Great, busier with this season.”

There was barely a customer in the store but Rick nodded in agreement. A loud pop had both men turning to the door and seeing a shy man get hit in the face.

“Shouldn’t we do something?”

Ralph shook his head as he took Rick’s card to charge it. “No helping that situation son. That boy’s been abused all his life. Daryl’s about your age and by the time I moved to town and got to know him he was already sixteen. I figured he would run when he turned eighteen but he comes in here all the time bruised up, he steals for his dad and I reckon me turning an blind eye is enough.”

Rick didn’t think it was but he smiled and took back his card. By the time he walked down to his car and hopped in he saw a beat up truck speed off with a sad looking Daryl in the passenger seat. Rick’s heart felt heavier as he cranked up his own car and headed home to a comfortable and warm house to eat more cookies.

————————————————————————

Daryl woke up shivering, the house had no heat nor fireplace. Last year his cold or whatever almost got him, blood seeping out his mouth at each excruciating cough. He caught himself praying, almost whispering a death wish with it. Instead he prayed to heal, not sure why another day of hurt was worth it. Two days later after a week of bloody coughs he stopped feeling bad all together and was immediately healed. He refused to say it was a miracle, his dad broke his rib that day as soon as he stood up.

Standing up he pulled on some socks as a barrier to the stone cold floor and tested the temperature of the shower, it was ice cold and he decided another day without a bath wouldn’t hurt. He heated up some water, the faucet barely flowing and boiled some water. There was no coffee but some hot water would heat him up. As the pot boiled he went to the living room and clicked his tongue, his dad lied down looking dead with a beer bottle beside him. Daryl refused to feel relief because his pa was still alive, that was always a fact.

Daryl slid his had under the counter and pulled out some dried herbs, adding it to his water. It was a rare treat that he had to hide from his dad. Even the simplest of pleasures got robbed from him. At 22 Daryl didn’t hope for anything, even his dreams were no escape. His pa moaned as he woke up and Daryl chugged his hot tea even as it burned his mouth and throat. There was no time anything good when you were a Dixon.

It was lunch time and Daryl limped back home with a bunny and two squirrels, he would be lucky if his dad let him eat the meat of one squirrel. He gutted the critters with a rusty knife and cooked them over the flames of an old barrel. Unseasoned meat and no sides, the meal he cooked for his dad every day. Looking to the sky he watched a plane fly by and wished there was more than this. Hobbling inside he delivered the meager meal.

“Boy! You burnt it.” His pa punched him in the face then once in the gut.

When he fell to the floor his dad stomped on his back as he gave up on even covering his kidneys. It was his second beating of the day, nothing different than any other day. More hits would come but it felt harder to care, to fight to live today. With his ears ringing Daryl closed his eyes and gave in, a much earned sleep was his to have.

Daryl woke up and groaned, realizing he was still alive, he rose from the floor slowly. His pa was gone he realized when he made so much noise hollering as he got up. Daryl knew better than be that loud, maybe it was a dare for more abuse or a beg. It was still cold and he coughed, his chest rattling with the movement. At the door he picked up a worn and dusty camouflage jacket and walked out the door refusing to remember it once belonged to Merle.

There wasn’t many options in Kings County to stay warm, the town was charming to most. It lulled in visitors who spent money at the few fancy stores in town. If you lived here inhabitants knew your name and gave you a friendly pat on the shoulder, if God forbid your house burnt down they threw money and encouragements at you unless your last name was Dixon. Kindness could never extend that far nor was it expected.

Daryl couldn’t get a dollar coffee from McDonalds or a warm seat at the local diner. One time Ralph let him sit in the office and sleep painfully in a stiff computer chair maybe that was mercy. Daryl didn’t know that answer as he pulled the thin coat across his body, one that should be stronger, he hissed at the cool bench draining the little warmth he had from his legs as he sat down. People shuffled down the path with their shopping bags, everyone in a hurry with Christmas purchases and they all ignored Daryl Dixon. Not because of the hustle and bustle of the Holiday season but because no one ever noticed a Dixon, even if they wheezed out every breath and turned colder on a bench.

————————————————————————-

Rick was tired of running errands, he had dropped off nearly $100 of groceries at his mother’s after her insistence for him to do that then he returned to town to pick up an engraved flask for his dad and then socks, more gifts, and he still had one more trip before filling up his mother’s car with gas. He swore he only existed to run her errands, something he felt like he had done ever since he could reach a light switch to turn it off in his mother’s bedroom. Christmas was still weeks away but he was already in a rush.

He signed in relief after crossing the street, his last task before gas. One extension cord from the General Store and he could throw everything on the counter in front of his mother and run back out the house, maybe drink some coffee and relax at the only coffee shop in town. He slowed down, tired of the running he had done all day and stopped when he saw a barely bundled up Daryl leaning over a bit on a bench. The man was asleep, his face tight and pained looking, he was wheezing. Small groans coming from his lips too much. The coat wasn’t thick and his face was pink. Rick pouted as he walked closer to the man.

How he sat on the bench, he looked like a frozen statue. Almost beautiful if you didn’t equate it with death which Rick would do if Daryl’s warm breath didn’t meet the chilled air, not to mention the littering of blues and yellows adoring his face. He walked slower to the man and even as his mind said don’t he reached out to touch a cheek. It was heavily bruised, a black eye forming but he still had to touch the fair skin. The man flinched before sliding down the seat with a jump, his cheeks might have appeared a rosy pink equating to warmth but they were ice cold. Rick held his now freezing hand and rubbed it with his other hand before dipping them both into pockets a looking shy.

“Sorry, I was checking on you.”

“None of your damn concern.” Daryl grunted, his throat raspy while it rattled.

Rick gulped and looked to the store that held his last chore before he looked at Daryl who was wheezing now while awake.

“Come with me.” Rick whispered.

He wasn’t sure of his plan or if he was even heard when he walked towards the store but a few minutes later and Daryl’s steps were behind him. Rick walked slower, aware of the weak gait following behind, he tried not to study the man’s actions. How he rubbed his hands together and seemed to appreciate the warmer store. Rick stopped and examined a few extension cords, trying hard to ignore the other as he thought up a plan.

At the counter Ralph greeted him, staring at Daryl who stood behind him mute. Rick blocked his inspecting gaze finding it rather rude though Daryl was not his friend. Daryl seemed to shrink in on himself and scuttle behind Rick in return as he told Ralph goodbye and practically ran out the door. Rick formed somewhat of a plan as the stranger followed him to his car. Rick was thankful that his dad’s thick, puffy jacket was in there and he turned to help Daryl put in on, the man flinched again as he tried to help.

Shushing him Rick smiled. “Hey, let’s put this over your other jacket huh?”

Daryl trembled while Rick helped him put in on, Rick trained his face to stay neutral and ignored the way the other shivered. He felt it was more than being cold and he smiled as he zipped him up.

“Let’s get some coffee.”

Daryl swayed behind him while Rick read the big board full of so many offerings. Every flavor and beverage imaginable and he set his sight on a peppermint mocha.

“What do you want Daryl?”

The man’s face scrunched up at Rick saying his name but he looked at the board, Rick was curious if he could actually read it as his eyes scanned the writing before replying with a simple black coffee. Rick wondered if this was what he really wanted, he seemed like a black coffee type but on a whim he ordered a cappuccino as well.

The pair stood to the side, Daryl wheezing more as he looked around rather paranoid as their order came. Daryl seemed uneasy when Rick handed him two cups and picked a table he knew had a vent above it. Rick sipped his coffee as Daryl twirled his fingers, pushing the sweeter option to Daryl he grinned.

“Try this, it’s good but if you don’t like it there’s you a coffee.”

What man orders two drinks for a stranger? Why was Rick smiling at him and helping him? Daryl’s mind swirled with so many thoughts as he coughed and took a sip, an explosion of flavors burst on his lips and his happily hummed, cradling the drink to warm his hands. The guy across from him grinned in satisfaction as he gulped a bigger sip.

“Got plans today?” Rick asked him.

Daryl wanted to get p—and say he never had plans, he wondered if his dad would miss him before he remembered the bar was open until 2 am tonight. He rubbed his chest, a blast of heat overhead warming his head as he looked at Rick and scowled.

“Who wants to know?”

Rick made an elaborate show of looking around before shrugging his shoulders and looking back at Daryl. “Me obviously since no one else is around.”

It was said with sass but Rick smiled and sipped on more of is mocha drink. Looking down Daryl tried to remind himself that no one was nice and no one cared about him but then Rick leaned in.

“Have lunch at my house.”

A warm meal, heck even a cold sandwich was enticing and Daryl’s stomach gurgled at the suggestion. Rick frowned and stood up abruptly. Daryl drank more of his coffee, trying his hardest not to chug it as he figured the stranger had enough and finally left him. He almost shot up off the chair when a muffin was placed in front of him.

“Easy Daryl, its breakfast.” Rick spoke to him like a scared horse.

Resentment should have festered then but he was too hungry to care so Daryl picked up the muffin and bit into it, crumbs falling as he scarfed it down like a hungry wolf.

Rick wasn’t dumb, he came from a good home but found out quickly in life he was a lucky one. Growing up he heard of the kids being abused at home, saw their dirty clothes and upkept appearances. They were teased and people threw things at them like an animal in a cage. He learned even when you aren’t straight up physically abused it didn’t mean you were cared for. His best friend Shane was always encouraged to be the best and was berated by his dad if he didn’t win a game. To this day he still remembered the cruel yelling he heard sometimes when he rang up his friend. By the age of 12 Rick was thankful for his parents, his good upbringing in a safe home. This Daryl was abused and he knew it was a situation the man couldn’t get out of since childhood.

“I’m Rick by the way and it would be my honor if you would eat lunch at my house today.”

‘Pssh “my honor?” What’s this hoity toity talk?’ Merles’ voice taunted.

Daryl drank more of his drink, ignoring Rick’s question as he looked anywhere but Rick’s way.

“Daryl.”

His name was spoken softly but it lacked pity, it was more hopeful and concerned. It wasn’t a way his name had ever been muttered. He looked up and into blue eyes that were like an ocean of all the things he never knew. Nice things he couldn’t have.

He wanted to flinch but couldn’t when Rick held his hand, it was warm and felt just right. Subconsciously he fit his hand into Rick’s palm and shivered for an entirely different reason when it was squeezed.

If there was ever a way to describe home he guessed maybe this was kind of it.

“Please Daryl, come eat lunch with my family.”

It sounded like a beg and when Daryl pulled his hand back he knew his reply, inhaling with deep acceptance he gave his answer.

————————————————————-

Rick opened the door for Daryl and he walked in holding a warm pumpkin pie with homemade whipped cream.

“Darling!” Rick’s mom pinched his cheek.

“About time you made it.” Rick’s dad joked and squeezed his shoulder affectionately.

Three years ago Daryl might have flinched and ran off to lick his wounds by himself, breathing out all the anxiety being cared for brought. He would think it was all a lie.

“Well the pie took longer for us to make.” Rick explained.

Daryl cut his eyes at his husband who decided then to look sheepish because Daryl has baked that damn pie all by himself. Rick Senior laughed and took it from Daryl’s hands but not before tilting his chin up and winking into eyes that didn’t avoid his.

———————————————————————-

The first time Daryl stepped into this house it came with a lie, Rick explaining he was a friend he had ran into from Atlanta with cancelled plans. The Grimes’ family accepted it and his banged up face and filled him with enough food he could have popped. Leftovers were shoved in his hands after a long night of games and chatting. He felt welcomed into a family and it made him angry because it wasn’t his.

Three weeks later Rick was back for Christmas break and found him sitting on the cold sidewalk in front of the General Store beat to a pulp. It was too much when Rick picked him up and brought him back to his home, patched him up and didn’t judge him staying at home with an abusive dad. When he started to hiccup with sobs Rick held him tight, rubbed his back and told him it would be okay.

Daryl believed him even though he should not have.

When Rick left three weeks later it was with a long lingering kiss, softer and longer than the rest they had had during Rick’s Winter break.

Will Dixon couldn’t change and in mid-January Daryl hunched in on himself, scared at being at a hospital for the first time in years. With a broken leg and three cracked ribs he had no choice and he bit his lip, blood pooling between his teeth at a door opening. He gasped when he saw Sherriff Rick Grimes.

Daryl hadn’t known Rick long but he could make him scared, when he cocked his head and told him how things were going to be and that night he found out exactly where it came from. The Sheriff told him what he would do, how he would testify against his pa so he would go to jail. Daryl never had a job though he tried to keep one, he couldn’t afford this hospital much less physical therapy or a to keep up the shack he called a home if he dad went to jail. As if he wanted to see that place at all.

“You come home with me and my wife son, we will get you right before we send you on. This is going to happen though.” Rick Senior cocked his head and Daryl listened.

Between home cooked meals and Martha Grimes taking him for physical therapy Daryl healed quickly but there was never a hour that came where the Grimes’ told him to leave their home and so he stayed and helped fix the old county farmhouse and when it looked new again he got a job.

Rick came and visited his family more often, it was too obvious Daryl knew. The Grimes’ would kick him out when the found out what he was doing with their only son. Yet, on a Tuesday when Rick gave him a big box of his favorite candy and a nice designer watch no one said a thing when Daryl was kissed in the middle of the living room in front of the Grimes’ and a second cousin. He didn’t even realize it was Valentine’s Day until Rick told him.

——————————————————-—-

Daryl smiled ear to ear, nothing new with that these days and twirled the gold ring around his finger. He looked at the living room where the last memory happened. To some it was just a room but to Daryl it held so many good memories, it was the room where Rick promised him he would always be safe and where he proposed. It was where Rick Senior first called him his boy and Martha clapped in a cheer when he stood up without a cane.

Everyone had already herded to the large kitchen as Daryl kept wearing a smile. He turned when he saw Martha walk his way.

“Come on baby, dinner is ready. I’m so glad you’re home.”

He didn’t fight it when she kissed his forehead, surely leaving red lipstick on his skin. Daryl liked that even if he wouldn’t admit it.

“Yeah I’m home ma.” His now never unbroken voice rasped out.


End file.
